


A Levels

by Mychemicalcommunist



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: British high school au, Fluff, M/M, its cute, they're 16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:12:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mychemicalcommunist/pseuds/Mychemicalcommunist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank does not want to endure the torture of studying A levels at his awful school. Then he meets Gerard, the first person to ever be his friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Levels

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I don't own anyone in this and it is purely fictional, so please don't put pressure on anyone in this fic in real life, respect them. Enjoy!

Staring at my artificially straight, pressed suit hanging from the rail fixed to my bedroom wall, I sigh heavily. School. Tomorrow. I'd wanted to escape the grey, character- drained place as soon as legally possible; that is after I completed my GCSEs (which I actually managed to scrape four A*s, five As and a B in) but my mother insisted on me staying till I am eighteen so 'I can secure a university education and a job in later life'. What she ceases to understand, however, is that I am socially inept, having honestly never had a friend in my entire life, and that continuing my education for two more years at Addton High School, after five years of scarcely coping with the anxiety, name- calling, being beaten up and general isolation is going to crush me with alarming weight.  
I don't blame her for this, as she is my favourite person to exist, and the most emotional- letting on any desolate feelings to her is something I learned not to do very early on. And that despite the reality ahead of me, mum's excitement is contagious and is calming me slightly.  
"Frankie, you're going to look so handsome in this suit!" Mum giggles, as she twiddles with the lapels of the jacket.  
"It'll go so nicely with your hair, I definitely made the right choice." That's something else I love about Linda Iero, she didn't judge me when I cut my hair into a black, tangled mess that just reached my jawline. Nor when I got nose and lip piercings, or described the tattoos I'm going to get (apart from the hour she spent lecturing me about septicaemia and HIV from needles and the million safety checks I would have to make before even considering the inking).  
I'm honestly really tight with my mum and however sad it is, she's my best- and only- friend.   
"God, mum. Stop embarrassing me." I smile, shaking my head.  
~*~*~*~*  
Merely opening my eyes to the rhythmically irritating alarm clock at seven in the morning is its own guerrilla war for me, and I fall out of my cocoon of heat into the brisk morning. Being London, I can already hear traffic roll by on the road perpendicular to my street. Today will be awful, my thoughts convince me as I brush my teeth, change into my suit- a huge step from the itchy terraline uniform I had worn previously, and smudge some eyeliner on.  
Mum squeals, as I tie my red tie, packing my bag with a foil-wrapped sandwich and handing me jam on toast and grapes for breakfast. She is mad about fruit.  
I hug her as I leave, proceeding through several suburban streets before the dismal sight of school catches my eye.  
~*~*~*~*  
The new sixth- formers are ferried into the assembly hall, weathered by the so called, in bland speeches from several teachers, importance of their A- levels and then assigned new form groups. This actually pleased me, as I have been stuck with the same group of cunts since I was eleven, and a change would be much appreciated.  
Our new form tutor is called Miss Davies, and seems nice and boring enough to teach Media studies. She assigns us places to sit, where we will stay every A.M and P.M registration for 10 minutes. Others complain about this but I am generally pleased as the weight of who to sit next to has been lifted off my shoulders.  
I take my place next to this boy with long-ish black, greasy hair, a nice but messy black suit and, oh shit... eyeliner! For once I am not going to be completely alone in being lectured about 'appropriate dress code'. Before I can overthink introducing myself, he extends his hand, and I shake it.  
"Gerard, nice to meet you." His voice is raspy and soft.  
"Frank" I say, smiling.  
It turned out me and Gerard had picked almost identical subjects, him having chosen Physics, History, English and Art, and I picked the same but replacing Art with Music. He was new to the school, as with many others in this co-hort of year 12s, so I agreed happily to show him round.  
We ate lunch together and then studied physics in Private study, chatting. He seems pretty interesting, he went to Groundsmere High until now, draws and has a brother called Mikey. He liked my ideas of the tattoos I am getting, but is too afraid of needles to ever get one himself, and he likes Misfits, Black Flag and the Beastie boys, so is automatically cool.  
He asked me about my interests but I was so embarrassed that I just muttered something about punk music and guitar. What was most important, however, is that this was the longest conversation I had ever comfortably held with anyone at school, and Gerard seemed generally interested in me and a bit too much of a looser to be mean to me. Because even on the first day back, I had already endured a lot of that.  
I walked home with Gerard, because he lived on my Way home (okay I'm hilarious) and he gave me his number and asked if I wanted to walk with him from now on to and from school. He suggested that.  
I walked in to my house, and as soon as she heard the key turn my mother bombarded me with questions, and I told her about my new friend like I was seven years old, smiling whenever I said Gerard.  
I thought about him that night, too picturing his adorably crooked mouth, with his tiny, sharp teeth that allowed him to roll smooth, educated words off his tongue, his greeny- hazel eyes and pointed nose. He was a friend, I reminded myself as I turned over, my boner pressing awkwardly into the sheets. I was pretty sure you're not supposed to depict your friend like I was doing now, desperately trying to make these thoughts sink into the black obis I manage to drown other emotions in.  
I'd had these sorts of thoughts before; there was this boy called George, that I never spoke a word to through embarrassment. But about Gerard it was much stronger; I fucking hate myself, I make one friend and I've ruined that by a stupid fucking crush. Maybe, no they were definitely right when that spat slurs like fag at me today. No. Don't normalise their behaviour, for other's sake, I then convinced myself.  
Worrying and fantasising all night left me looking dreadful the following morning and I was so drained that the basic functions I was required to undertake seemed a challenge. Nevertheless, at precisely 7:45, I was at the burnt orange door of the Way residence, slightly nervous for some profound reasons that had emerged the night before.  
I loosened as Gerard and I walked to school together, allowing him to describe in great detail his artistic interest in comic book illustrations, smiling as I stared up at his curled lips and passionate hand gestures, I loved that he was already sharing something he obviously adored with me, as if he trusted me. This sensation was new to me, being the freak I am, and I craved it.  
We spent every day up to the October half term practicing this sort of routine, talking vastly, laughing, becoming best friends. I have to say, having a best friend like Gerard is one of the nicest things; someone you can spill your emotions to, your slightly twisted sense of humour, idols, obsessions- it's honestly worth the arrogant cunts that scream slurs at you, the same people that push you over, punch and kick you. It really is.  
I always liked the idea of school holidays much more than their reality, there was never anything to keep me busy, and they always made me even more sad. The fact my seventeenth birthday is situated on the 31st didn't serve to make me any happier either, birthdays weren't ever that much fun, despite my mother's efforts.  
I'd been round to Gerard's and he'd been round to mine lots by the October holiday, to study, game, or my personal favourite activity, to edit the school's posters into communist propaganda, then paste them around the school. We both found this hilarious.  
We studied once at his during the half term, which has dragged out to the 30th, and I'm in a paradox where I loathe holidays but also school. It has consisted mainly of me lying on my bed, playing my guitar and wishing for a brain that would retain its theory.  
Mum knocked at my bedroom door;  
"Frankie, baby, at the hospital they're gonna make me do a night shift on your birthday, Hallowe'en is always overcrowded, and I can't get out of it. They want all nurses there."   
"Oh, uh okay. Sorry you have to work the night."   
"No, Frank, I'm sorry we can't have a cosy night watching TV like I planned. Sorry baby. But I don't want to leave you alone, I know what you're like, I'll come back to you obsessing about some worry that means you'll never leave the house again and only talk to me in a hysteric fit of panic at 4am in the morning." She said it as if she was joking but her shaky voice indicated seriousness and worry.  
And she was right. Not that I could do anything about it though.  
"So I invited Gerard for a sleepover while I'm gone."  
My mouth dropped. "What?" I hissed, exasperated.  
"You'll enjoy it, you can watch some films, I don't know. You're a lot happier around him."  
"No, mum! I'm going to be seventeen and you think, that I'm still an appropriate age for a sleepover? God, why do you have to put me through this embarrassment? No wonder they beat me up. A fucking sleepover. What kind of desperate motherfucker I look like. And that my mother invited him. Jesus Christ." I was shouting now, nearly crying with pent up emotions and worry,  
"Frank. stop stressing, I texted Gerard on your phone and he said yes. He seemed pleased. Let yourself enjoy something for God's sake." I was sort of relieved, enough to apologise to mum and do my Physics homework.  
And then I evaluated the situation. Because as much as I try to ignore it, I'm definitely sexually attracted to Gerard, and very heavily at that. He is the topic of my thoughts frequently. Sleeping in close proximity to him may drive me into extreme frustration, something I'd be cripplingly embarrassed to admit.  
~*~*~*  
My birthday commenced in a way that almost mirrored those before it. I slept in till around eleven, got dressed and went downstairs, to a vinyl player with several punk records adorned around it, some shirts, a black MAC eyeliner (that I received with great embarrassment but also secret joy) and a Fender amp. And a very exited mother. I thanked her and set my presents up in my room as she prepared dinner, still nervous that Gerard was arriving at seven. The amp and vinyl player sounded brilliant, and my birthday wasn't as dismal as I had expected, and I acted this up to please mum.  
She cried when she had to leave.  
15 minutes later the ringing of the doorbell sent chills extending through my veins. I honestly don't know why I'm so nervous, even around the people I hold dearest; mum wants me to go to a clinic because of my frequent panic and general demoralisation, but I refuse.   
I'm greeted with a bright smile and a miniature cascade of slightly greasy black hair upon opening the door. Gerard is wearing black skinny jeans and a Black Flag shirt, with battered Dr. Martens gracing his feet.   
"Happy birthday!" He's clutching something wrapped in shiny paper, and he extends it to me. I can hardly contain a squeal as I receive it, only not exclaiming joy in this way so as not to look like a complete freak in front of Gerard.  
"Oh man, thanks, you shouldn't have." I mumble, internally grinning. "Make yourself comfortable in the living room, we're home alone so, uh, yeah, we can watch one of my horror movies if you want."  
"Sounds great." I can actually hear the sincerity in his voice.  
I bring in some of the popcorn mum brought us and slump down on the sofa next to Gerard, flicking The Conjuring on, but not starting it before I can unfurl the contents of my present into my hands.  
It's the contents of my present that make me almost want to cry, how thoughtful Gerard is.  
He would make a great boyfriend.   
Upon my lap now is a fucking sick comic strip drawing of Batman, saying 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRANK', The Communist Manifesto (this made me laugh incredibly hard), some homemade(?) Black Flag earrings and a really glossy, nice book about The Misfits.   
"Oh my God!" I say, my hands affectionately over my mouth, and then I fucking hug him. "Thank you" I smile before cringe at what I just did.  
We watch The Conjuring, talking the whole way through and me screaming at the jumpscares and grabbing Gerard. If I wasn't so completely fatigued and intoxicated with a couple of beers, I'd be shitting myself at what a fucking idiot I'm being, but fuck it.  
I'd like to say an extreme thank you to my mother for buying us a relatively large pack of beer, because I'm being such a strange cunt right now I don't want to remember all the details of this in fear of never speaking to my ebony- haired best friend again.  
The film finished and I threw my head back lethargically in preparation of changing the disc.   
"You're so pretty, God" I turned to look at the beautiful, smiley boy who just parted those words from his lips. He'd only had one beer, what was going on?  
"Whoa, shit. It really must be my birthday if Gerard Way, the most beautiful person I know is calling me pretty." I fucking cringed, panicking so much after saying this that a tear escaped mt eye.  
"I-I'm sorry that was really weird, shit." I mumbled, failing to breathe steadily or hold back anxious tears.  
Gerard reached his hand out and caressed my wet cheeks with his thumb.   
"You think I'm the most beautiful person you know?" He asked. And I nodded; my insides churning.  
"Well, you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen and you're talented and clever and I've got the biggest crush ever on you, so if anything's weird, it's me, don't worry Frankie."  
My eyes widened, heart rushing.  
"You can't have the biggest crush ever on me, Gerard. Because I've earned that title with my crush on you." I giggled nervously, still in a happy shock.  
We were sitting cross- legged, facing each other now, and Gerard leaned in and hooked his face into my own, gracing his soft lips against mine. Adrenaline rushed around me at a speed I'm fairly certain I'll never be able to achieve again as l licked his bottom lip. It parted and I felt the sterling silver band inserted in my lip collide with Gerard's tiny teeth, pushing my tongue between them.  
As I pulled back for air, I replayed the moment in all its glory, my eyes locking with the hazel- green, glinting jewels that were Gerard's. He took my hand and I rested my head on his warm torso.  
"I think I just caught myself a boyfriend." I giggled, surprised at the calming of my anxiety.  
"You always were the Pokémon master." He responded in an adorable fashion that seems to come naturally to him.  
We sat through Alien one, two and three, kissing occasionally, my heart having palpitations every time he moved, let alone kiss me.  
My mum got home at seven and made us pancakes for breakfast, and offered to drive Gerard back, but I refused, as he lives close enough, and she was obviously drained. Not to mention the small romantic gestures I wanted to bestow upon my new boyfriend.  
We walked back through the park, a small, forresty, wood now infested with autumnal hues and thousands of leaves scattered everywhere. It was blissfully empty too, as we walked underneath a canopy of branches, their trunks parallel with our direction and their orange, yellow and golden leaves raining onto us. I held Gerard's hand tightly against one of my own calloused extremities, and we talked as fluently as always. When we got to the gate of the park, I kissed him passionately, then walked him to his door.  
"Thank you for my favourite ever birthday, Way."  
"You're most welcome, Iero."  
I nearly skipped the whole way back home to mine.  
Mum was sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, some utterly stupid program on shopping blaring in the background. She grinned delightedly when she saw me smiling, pulling me into a hug.   
"Well, someone's happy!" Despite her fatigue, she sounded completely energetic.  
"Anyone would be happy if they had my new boyfriend." I smiled at mum excitedly.  
She squealed inhumanly. "Who? Gerard? That's so cute, you two are adorable, oh God, that's just too... aww! You're so cute together!" I just smiled, slightly embarrassed.  
"You never told me you liked Gerard, Frankie."  
"Mum, I never even told you I was gay, Jesus Christ."  
"Pfft. Like I would care anyway. Look how happy you are, I haven't seen you this happy since before you turned seven. Marry Gerard if he makes you feel like that babe." She was so happy.  
"Mum!" I groaned.  
"But use a condom." She giggled.  
"Mum!" I hissed, embarrassed, but smiling.  
"I guess it was all down to that sleepover." I said, smiling at my mother.  
"Yes! I knew I was right!" And she was.  
~*~*~*~  
Two months later, and dating Gerard was still one of the best things in my life. He'd taught me to deal with irrational anxiety more than I could have ever imagined, just being there for me. And this New Years Eve I'm sitting on top of a hill, in the park we had walked through the day after the sleepover, grasping Gerard's slender, delicate hands, sitting on a picnic mat, covered in blankets and watching the fireworks, completely isolated. Mum has a nightshift, but didn't mind this when I told her me and Gerard were watching the firework display together, smiling as she dropped me off at Gerard's.  
"I really love you. Uncontrollably. Unconditionally. I fucking adore you, Frank Iero" Gerard said, burying his face into the little skin exposed by my coat on my neck.  
"Well, Gerard Way, I happen to feel the same about you, you gorgeous person. You calm me and make me happy to a point I can't believe. I'm so in love with you, I'm addicted." I made eye contact with my 'addiction' and ran my tongue across his lips, the sky alive with colour.  
He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I moaned into the kiss, my jeans tightening as I grabbed his hair, grinding my hips against him. Gerard moaned and placed his hands on my hips, bringing them underneath my jeans. I lusted for Gerard and grabbed at the zip of his midnight skinny jeans, unbuckling his belt. If we hadn't have been so alone, I'd never have even contemplated what I was about to do now.  
Sliding his jeans, along with my fingers, down Gerard's skinny, but firm thighs, a wave of Goosebumps erupted over my skin. I've never been more attracted to anyone in my existence. I untied his Dr. Martens and slid the jeans off his ankles, breathing heavily as he did the same to me. I palmed Gerard through his boxers, laying him down on at least three blankets.  
"God, Frankie. That's fucking good."  
I brought his boxers down his legs, moaning when I saw his hard cock, stroking it gently. I was fucking freezing but too incredibly aroused to care. I spread my hand on his thigh and met my lips on the tip of Gerard's cock, kissing it gently. He whimpered as I started to suck, running his fingers through my hair and moaning. I took more in ever time I bobbed my head, reducing Gerard to a quivering mess when he hit the back of my throat, coming instantly. I swallowed a little, and the rest went on his thighs and my chin. I looked, up at the quivering wreck that was Gerard.  
"Frankie, that was fucking incredible, come here." He grabbed me to his lips, as well as clasping my now throbbing bulge. I let out a high pitch moan, swearing and gasping as Gerard removed my boxers and ran his tongue along me from base to tip, before curling his lips over my throbbing dick, sucking gently. It drove me wild, running my fingers through his greasy hair as his delicate mouth aroused me to a peak where I was coming down his throat and all over myself. I shook with excitement and orgasmic high.  
"Gerard, I fucking love you so much." I unzipped his coat and kissed and gently bit his neck, determined to leave a mark on his pale, delicate skin. It seems he had the same idea, as after I was finished, he did the exact same to me.  
I slid on his boxers and my jeans, laying back and admiring the clear sky from where I lay, wrapped in blankets. He got dressed, partially in my clothing, and lay beside me. We talked about the stars and the universe, and the new year.  
"Every single nebula, star, galaxy, planet, moon, cosmos out there, Gerard, and you're still the most beautiful thing to exist. The stardust that is our true nakedness, humanity stripped, created the most gorgeous, intelligent being, and through immense probability, put me next to him right now. The fact that I am living in the same period of time as you is half keeping me alive, Gerard. I love you like nothing else. Happy new year baby."  
"Frank..." He breathed, "I want nothing more in the world to grow old with you, you've made me cry. Jesus, I love you."  
I kissed him under the bare sky. Midnight was long gone, and we walked back to mine and climbed in bed, promising to love each other forever.  
I fell to sleep looking at a face more astoundingly beautiful than every single nebula, star, galaxy, planet, moon, cosmos in the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first fic, I hope you enjoyed it. <3 Comments and kudos is much appreciated. Xxxx


End file.
